


All In the Name of the Job

by taylorswift



Category: Actor RPF, Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF, RPF - Fandom
Genre: F/M, In Which Renner and Scarlett Make Out Like a Bunch of Teenagers at a Movie, Movie Night, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Thor - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-13
Updated: 2015-08-13
Packaged: 2018-04-14 11:30:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4562943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taylorswift/pseuds/taylorswift
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When it comes to alien technology, people like Scarlett and Jeremy tend to get lost very quick. Their ideas of fixing the problem and attempting to learn about it aren't much better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All In the Name of the Job

**Author's Note:**

> Oh look, I'm finally posting things to AO3 again. The actual hell I went through to find the interview where they talked about going to see this movie is just...beyond words. I'd prefer to not live it again. Ever.

I’m pretty sure that if we weren’t, well, us, Jeremy and I would look like some average couple going on a date to the movies.

“I swear, you were in this movie,” I grumble as we beeline through the parking lot to avoid recognition. “I thought you of all people would know what this thing is. That’s the whole reason I called you.”

“I was in the movie for three seconds aiming a bow and arrow at Chris, not standing bodyguard to the  _Tesseract_ ,” he responds, his head swerving in my direction. “And I take offense that you just admitted to using me for your own understanding purposes.”

“You’ll live.”

Normally, I’d never suggest something like going to the movies simply for pleasure, mostly because I find the whole practice overrated by now. I’m the person who would much rather wait until the release so I don’t have to leave my whole comfort zone, but desperate times have called for desperate measures. The script for the Avengers came in, and within the first few pages, Jeremy and I had both dialed up each other in the same state of confusion. We had no idea what the hell what was going on. So, after much Googling and perplexity on both of our behalves, we finally settled on the only plausible option to clue us in: he and I were going to see Thor.

It’s also, if I think about it in unspoken terms, a date. I’ve never been genuinely close with Jeremy before until after we realized we were finally doing a movie together. We met up a few times after we wound up having what my sister dubbed as she screeched into the receiver of the phone, an engagement photo shoot on the red carpet of the Oscars. He and I got on just fine; the bastard kept me on my toes, that was for sure, but I appreciated having someone who was willing to put forth the effort to keep me interested. Especially after splitting from my boyfriend, being single and around Jeremy is the most fun I think I’ve had in years.

Joss keeps sending in scripts that neither of us understand, and truthfully, we don’t have the heart to tell him that we’re baffled by whatever alien technology he’s pulled out of his ass. So the next best idea is trying to figure things out for ourselves. I don’t think that we’ll learn much, however. We have the attention spans of five year olds, I’ve quickly learned, and it can be complicated for us to keep our hands off of each other.

I don’t think he’ll have the luck he’s expecting, judging by that sinful look he’s had scrawled on his face since we got here, seeing as how one of his favorite pastimes is crawling underneath my skin and staying there. He’s already pissed me off by buying both of our movie tickets; even though I was shoving my card into his arm so hard I thought it might snap in half. He also keeps bumping his hand against mine, something I know that he can’t possibly be doing on purpose. I know that Jeremy isn’t stupid—drunk, maybe, and I’d be incredibly impressed if he’s wasted at 2 in the afternoon, but he’s not an idiot. He knows exactly what he’s doing.

“This is where teenagers come on a date,” I mumble to no one in particular. Jeremy’s face looks like it could stand in the running for a Christmas light display contest.

“What are you trying to say, sweetheart?”

Even though I’d prefer my body not to betray me, my cheeks flush pink at that. “That if anyone sees us, we’re instantly going to be love struck puppies in the eyes of the tabloids.”

“And that’s a bad idea how?” he questions, shoulders falling a little as he gives me a look. “And seriously, do you ever not stress when you go out in public about ending up on the front cover of some trashy magazines only middle aged housewives read? Hate to break it to you, but you’re not  _that_  exciting.”

I roll my eyes. “Wow, Renner, you sure do know how to make a girl feel great about herself.”

“It’s my specialty, darling,” he says, the dirty look on his face accentuated with a wink after his comment.

Some kid sitting at the mouth of the lobby tears off our ticket stubs for us with shaking hands and wide eyes, and we take a dreadfully long time to stroll through the theater as we go on and on about the ridiculous cut out of Hemsworth that we saw the moment we walked in the door. I don’t even think he knows where we’re going, just that we’ve ended up several feet from the concessions counter.

“Are you trying to make this date official?” I tease, head tilting in the direction of the popcorn machine.

Jeremy snorts. “Hell no, who do I look like paying twenty bucks for popcorn?” He unzips the pocket of his leather jacket that it’s beyond too hot for, and protrudes from it a Ziploc bag bursting with Skittles. “I came prepared,” he announces proudly.

My face drops. “Of course you did.”

“Don’t look so disappointed, or you can starve for the next two hours.”

One of my eyebrows quirks in response. “I’ll be staring at Hemsworth for two hours; I doubt I’ll be worried about Skittles.”

It’s his turn to frown; clearly he wasn’t expecting something like that to come from me. “If you wanted to watch a two hour movie, you should’ve come with…well, anyone but me.”

“You sound confident.”

“And you sound lacking in faith.”

Naturally, by the time we get into the theater, the lights have already gone down and the previews have started. Jeremy pouts at this revelation; apparently, he’s one of the three people on the planet that actually enjoys watching the previews before a movie. There’s only a few other people scattered across the theater, which leaves just about everywhere to sit. I feel Jeremy’s hand grasping for mine and I willingly slip my hand into his grip. He starts to lead me up the stairs, climbing higher and higher until we get to the very top row and then turns into the corner so we’re right against the wall.

“Any reason right here?” I ask him quietly, the smirk on my face plain as day even in the light of whatever’s playing on screen. His lips twist up in a smile as he drops down into his seat, pulling that goddamn Ziploc bag from his pocket.

“Want a Skittle?”

“I only eat the red ones,” I inform him as I sit down. “So good luck figuring out which are which in this dark little corner.”

“You hate me. That’s the only plausible explanation I have for any of this.”

He goes about rummaging in the bag, pulling out a few. “Don’t you dare complain if you get an orange,” he warns. “You’re the only person I’d ever willingly disburse red Skittles in the dark for.”

Over the sounds of explosions from the sound system, I can hear him drop a few into my outstretched hand. I beam in his direction. “You’re cute,” I say before popping all of what he’s given me into my mouth. The outstretched hand returns, and he groans.

“Jesus Christ woman, bring your own Skittles next time.”

“Shut up before you’re left with nothing  _but_  your Skittles.”

The movie starts, and for the first little bit, Jeremy and I stay attentive, aside from whenever I want more Skittles—it was a big ass bag, who was I to refuse—and to crack jokes at Hemsworth. It really doesn’t take long for the two of us to lose focus in the movie, and not because it’s not an interesting movie. Renner’s pushed up the arm rest in between the two of us and has thrown his arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer towards him. His hands start to roam, and eventually, so does his mouth. He really does know how to wind me up.

I don’t even think we’re an half hour into the movie when Jeremy’s hand moves underneath my chin, tilting it in his direction and taking the breath right from me as he kisses me. He tries not to keep me there too long, as he was born with the title of ‘Tease of the Century’ around his neck. Instead, he steals kisses—too short, breathless kisses that sends my heart to the pit of my stomach, and when his lips aren’t on mine, he’s kissing down my neck, making me wish we’d just pretended that we knew what the hell the Tesseract was so we could have just skipped straight to the after-showing fun.

“There’s a movie going on, you know,” I insist weakly as he knots his fingers in my hair, mouth fire on my neck, trying to gain some of my poise back. I can’t even remember the last time I made out with someone in a movie theater; I had to have been a teenager, if that. And yet, here we are, two grown adults acting like horny kids.

His voice is low and gravelly in my ear. “Do I look like I give a damn? 

“You’re fucking in it; you don’t want to admire your three second cameo?”

“I swear to god, just  _kiss_ me, woman.”

“Gladly.”

We end up leaving with only the sole knowledge of  _what_  the Tesseract is.


End file.
